A Last Generosity from the Opera Ghost
by Cantharide
Summary: [English translation] Sequel to Leroux's novel: at the end of January 1910, just after the last lines of the novel were released in Le Gaulois, Gaston Leroux has a guest, the baron de Castelot-Barbezac, Meg Giry's husband, who's convinced the Phantom played a role in his marriage... Pretty quickly, the journalist launches a new investigation... [Meg/OC]
1. Chapter 1

**Here's another translation of one of my fanfictions, _Une dernière bonté du Fantôme de l'Opéra_ , starring Meg Giry, her husband and... Gaston Leroux himself! I hope you'll enjoy it. Please leave me a comment if you want to give me some suggestions for the following chapters (I already wrote the second one, but nothing more... so, don't be afraid to submit your ideas and wishes, I usually consider them). =)**

 **A little disclaimer, as always: _Le Fantôme de l'Opéra_ belongs to Gaston Leroux - and, by the way, Gaston Leroux also belongs to Gaston Leroux... Only Henri de Castelot-Barbezac belongs to me (except his name, which was given in the novel). However, many of the characters will be a little different, compared to the book, because... Yeah, you know, they're 30 years older... x) **

* * *

**I**

 _Where we learn that the story  
of the Phantom of the Opera's acts  
maybe isn't over_

The final lines of my novel were barely published in the last issue of the _Le Gaulois_ newspapers, when I received a visit from the baron Henri de Castelot-Barbezac, whose wife, Marguerite Jules, elder daughter of madame Giry, helped me so efficiently while investigating the mystery of the Phantom of the Opera. Making my enquiries, I soon considered the baron only as the husband of one of my witnesses, an onlooker amongst others, by no means involved in the case I was trying to solve. I ignored, at this time, how wrong I could be. Anyway, surprised to see him, I invited him to come in.

I have to clarify as for now that this baron Henri de Castelot-Barbezac, descending from an ancient noble Gascon family, was at this time a man in his fifties, with a craggy face, surrounded by pepper and salt sideburns, but looking quite affable; he also was a little paunchy. All in all, he embodied that ancient, gentrified nobility, neither society, nor decadent. Even if his marriage once was the talk of the town, baron Henry always remained kind of an aesthetes, sophisticated and quiet, although often quite blasé. The anxiety on his face immediately told me something was very wrong.

Without further ado, I offered him a cognac – the lengthy discussions I had with his wife allowed us those kind of familiarities – and enquired about the reason why he came here. It was enough to draw out his anxieties.

"Monsieur Leroux… When you asked Marguerite about the events of 1881, to support your narration of the Phantom of the Opera's adventures… I have to confess, I listened to all of her narrations with entertainment. My wife belongs to the corps de ballet, you know it, and she loves theatrics. I always thought those ghost stories only were backstage gossips amongst others, one of those the late madame Giry – God rest her! – used to tell, to blow her own trumpets, as they say, amongst the superstitious opera cast! Therefore, I usually nodded my head, gravely, without parading, to my wife's fantasies. Do I have to tell you I enjoyed them? To tell you they entertained me? Marguerite's mind, monsieur Leroux, always fascinated me with its inventiveness: we are married for thirty years, and I never felt bored in her company…"

Then, the baron threw himself in a lengthy digression about Marguerite de Castelot-Barbezac, the love he felt for her since the very first day, and the way he proved to the whole world the true nature of his feelings, by marrying her. I couldn't wait to listen to the rest of the story, to the explanation of his visit; however, the baron's excitement was so intense, that I preferred not to interrupt him. I refilled his glass with cognac.

"Monsieur Leroux – he finally said, after ten long minutes of verbal wandering – I read your novel… and I suddenly felt stupid, because, for so long, I laughed up my sleeve while listening to my wife's tales. Now, you convinced me: the Phantom of the Opera really existed. Therefore, of Marguerite's and her mother's stories' truthfulness…"

His look suddenly darkened.

"… And if those stories are true, monsieur Leroux… My marriage is a mockery."

Stunned, I looked at baron Henri's face, now distraught; at his gaze, deeply saddened; and I wasn't able to understand what caused them. He noticed my astonishment, smiled sadly, and carried on with his story.

"Your investigation did not bring you back in the end of 1881, monsieur Leroux: in November 1881, I married Marguerite, despite all the social conventions in force. I had met her… a few months before, monsieur. _Ten days after Raoul de Chagny's disappearance._ Oh! I already hear you say: 'come on, monsieur de Castelot-Barbezac, it might only be a coincidence…' But you know it just as me, monsieur Leroux: HE promised madame Giry that her daughter would become an empress… Do you remember? Marguerite gave you that little piece of paper her mother entrusted her. What a coincidence, don't you think so? The dancer having ahead of her a so brilliant future was precisely the one falling into the arms of someone like me…"

My answered aimed to reassure him, instead of convincing me.

"Monsieur le baron, I said, you know it better than me: destiny always plays a role… When Erik let Christine Daaé and the vicomte de Chagny go towards the North of the World, he signed his own death warrant. He put some things in order, as you read it, and gave back to the managers of the Opera House their twenty thousand francs. Then, he sealed off the entries of the Lake House, except one: the hidden pathway in the rue Scribe, the one he took to go one last time above the ground… when I went to the Persan, to tell the end of his story. He died a month and a half after his tragedy's outcome… No, monsieur de Castelot-Barbezac, I don't think Erik orchestrated your wedding with Marguerite Giry. And even if he actually did, it can't falsify your wife's true feelings…"

"Perhaps, you are right, monsieur Leroux. Perhaps, you are right… It's only a coincidence, as unbelievable as it can be… Yet, I have doubts, monsieur Leroux. Atrocious ones. My wife never was ambitious, or, at least, I never believed she were… How could she lie to me for thirty years? Maybe, certainly, you are right… After all, I met her at the Opera's masquerade. She was sitting at a table, with three other dancers. My former friend, Amédée d'Anquetil, was one of those ladies' lover… His mistress introduced him to Marguerite… He invited her to dance, only for form. Then, she waltzed with me. She was thin, graceful, despite her sallow face and her lean, boyish body… I ignored, then, that I was dancing with my future wife. I even ignored, that I was going to fall in love with her! My friend teased me, all night long, about that little dancer, who wasn't even pretty. Then, one thing leading to another… Perhaps, you are right, monsieur Leroux. Amédée d'Anquetil's banter's surely played a greater role in my marriage, than the hypothetic acts of the Phantom of the Opera… But I still have doubt…"

I wasn't use to see the baron Henri de Castelot-Barbezac so filled with emotions. Therefore, I tried one last time to comfort him.

"My dear baron, if you grant me the authorisation, I will try my best to shed light on the Phantom of the Opera's last acts, immediately before his death. I hope to relieve you from your doubts."

"Thanks, monsieur Leroux, many, many thanks!"

The gratitude I saw on his face was truly moving. After some civilities, I saw the baron to the door, and he left in his car. I went back in my office. Curiously, I started to share the doubts the respectable husband of the Little Meg felt… The coincidence, too important, between their first meeting and the end of the Phantom of the Opera's acts… Shall I confess, that renew with this enigma, this recently closed case file, was filling me with enthusiasm? My investigation would surely be complicated, because almost every protagonist of the tragedy were already dead: madame Jeanne Giry, the box five's usherette, died with the 19th-century; the vicomte de Chagny and Christine Daaé had left forever; as for the Phantom himself, his body was still resting in the cellars of the opera house. The Persan was also dead, not long ago. But some important witnesses, including Meg Giry herself, were still alive. However, I decided to begin my investigation where she met the baron for the first time, at the masquerade…

* * *

 **And that's it! See you soon for the next chapter!**

 **... Wait, there's a question for you: how do you think Erik managed to push Meg into Henri's arms? ^^**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here's the second chapter of our story!**

 **Not A Ghost 3 and Magneticfield, thank you for the reviews, I hope you won't be disappointed. I also hope that my followers, MarilynKC, Rennyangelee, TheMostRandomOfRandomWriters, invaderoperaghost, and littlecoporal will enjoy it!**

* * *

 **II**

 _Where we are immersed  
in old newspapers_

Baron de Castelot-Barbezac's visit left me a bit dubious, but awakened in me an insatiable curiosity, even worsened by the supposition, that the tragic and astonishing story of the Phantom of the Opera, of the poor, unhappy Erik, could last a little longer. How couldn't I doubt it? How a man like him, with such incredible intellectual capacities, couldn't he be – at least, a little! – involved in the (happy, I should mention it) union between the baron and the former dancer? However, I still wasn't really comfortable with the idea to interview, _ex nihilo_ , the survivors of this awful adventure, without knowing in detail every single notorious anecdote about the love-story from 1881. Therefore, I decided to begin my investigation in the libraries, where I stopped my researches after reading about the murder of Philippe de Chagny, and Raoul and Christine's disappearance.

(I have to admit right now, that I wasn't aware of any detail of the story when it happened: at this time, I was very young – thirteen years old! – and I was living in the provinces, in Nice, with my parents. I came to Paris only in 1886, when I registered at the Sorbonne, as a law student. At this time, the events of 1881 already disappeared from the memories, as many other society anecdotes.)

My first enquiries were not really successful, and the results I obtained were not really satisfying. Most of the newspapers confined themselves to caricature, more or less maliciously, that young baron, in his twenties, with his skinny dancer. Nevertheless, I noticed the firsts mentions of their idyll dated from the end of mars 1881, only a few weeks before Easter. Aware of the news' fast diffusion in the mundane Parisian society, I deduced that the Masquerade the baron evoked took place shortly after those celebrations. In fact, everything he told me confirmed this idea: he affirmed he met Meg Giry _ten days after the Chagny's tragedy_. I therefore took a closer look in the newspapers published in 1881, and got the confirmation I was looking for: the Masquerade took place on the 24th of March, at the Opera's Foyer de la danse. I learned Carlotta sang two arias composed by Meyerbeer, and was cheerily applauded, on _L'Époque_ 's evidence. A malicious journalist even added that, "for once, no incident caused by the Phantom of the Opera was noted." And I was about to rule against him…

I started to wonder: what could have been Erik's attitudes? His state of mind? The kidnapping of Christine, the murder of the Count Philippe, the imprisonment of his brother Raoul along with the Persan, all of this happened ten days before, on the 14th of March. How long did they stay in the Room Louis-Philippe, drowned and ill? How long was Raoul, now alone, locked in the Communard's Prison, before the tragic ending we all know? I could hardly figure it. A few days. Maybe ten. Maybe less, maybe more than ten. The only clues I had on this subject were all coming from the Persan's testimony, and he died a few days after I visited him. As for his servant Darius, he soon followed him in the grave…

However, I was convinced that at least some weeks went by between the Persan's return home and Erik's visit: during this interval, the Daroga found the time to try to let the judge Faure know about Erik's doings. Because of the judge having received him with disregard, the Persan then set down on paper everything he knew about the man once know in Persia under the name of _Hatches' Lover_ , before seeing the Phantom one last time. Three weeks went by, between this last encounter and the moment when the Daroga published the necrology.

Having only those few clues, I went back to the newspaper where, on the first of June 1881, _L'Époque_ made Erik's death public. Three weeks before, on the 10th of May, the Phantom saw his only friend for the last time. Almost two months after the Tragedy… And those were my only clues: a few miserable dates! Christine's kidnapping and Philippe's murder occurred on the 14th of March; they discovered the Count's body three days after his death, on the 17th… Then, the Persan was sent back home, because he learned Philippe de Chagny's tragic end after his return _above the ground_ … Christine Daaé and her beloved Raoul were set free some time after… Once he recovered from his illness, the Persan tried to reach the judge, without success… He wrote his memoirs… And saw Erik…

Alas! All those events happened _above the ground_! I would have given everything to know what happened _below_ the stoves and the diabolical mechanics living in the depths of the Opera House! To unravel the mysteries in the Room Louis-Philippe and be present, ghost amongst ghosts, when the lovers were set free! But was I still concerned about Christine's horrific story? Nothing could allow me to link the Phantom and Meg Giry's wedding… The girls whose destiny was to become an empress in 1885… Nothing! No guaranteed link between the two cases!

Deep down inside me, I was wondering about Erik's state of mind on the 24th of March, when, at the Masquerade, the Baron and the newly promoted _coryphée_ … _Had he cut his heart in four pieces already?_ This was at the heart of everything. To be honest, I couldn't manage to admit that, deep down in his euphoric madness, Erik could have been thinking about anything else than his own delight, being with "his wife", Christine Daaé, _silent as a cloistered sister_. But after leaving the one he loved and was still in love with to the care of the vicomte de Chagny, how could he even have thought about someone else's happiness, a mere dancer deprived of any importance, only because her mother helped him once in a while? With a heavy heart, he only thought about _renouncing to everything linked to the life above the ground_ , putting his things in order, and locking every single way to enter the Lake House…

No. I wasn't able to figure how Erik, in a state of mind or another, could have interfered with the Baron's love-affair, despite how much I put my imagination to the test…

However… Neither was I able to figure how he could _not_ have played a role in their relationship…

Was the beginning of my investigation a dead-end? No way! I needed to understand how Henri and Marguerite de Castelot-Barbezac met for the first time, how they saw each other again, and, finally, how they fall in love, if I ever wanted to bring the Phantom of the Opera's story to an end.

Therefore, I decided to carry on with the investigation, and to begin with someone who was at the centre of the young men's attention back in 1881: Cécile Jammes.

* * *

 **Do someone remember who Cécile is? The young, brilliant, beautiful young dancer in Leroux's novel... A character too often forgotten, always merged with Meg in order to create a young, brilliant, beautiful, blonde girl who knows something about the Opera Ghost... =)**

 **Anyway! See you soon for the third chapter, and, as always, don't be afraid to leave me a review (especially if you have suggestions or ideas), they're greatly appreciated!**


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